I’ve lost the arrows
That once pierced my thickened skin.
I was napping under
A big elm tree
As lazy bees buzzed about,
And I heard no thief
Sneak up along me, but brief.
Tag: tree
Rowboat (day 1658)
A sadness which has my heart is the deepest joy I have ever known. A snaking coil in my veins that surges with pressure of an ancient gale, fierce in spirit, surfacing upon it’s vista. I have come to realize I am the coloration, the reminiscent artifact of ashes smearing an impossible black sand beach at the head of the trust waters. My song is what trees sway to, sitting about the shoreline untouched by humanity’s destructive progress and filled with such contrast, from lightness to a darkness deep within the bosom of her mossy embrace. My song reaches to the toenails while standing barefoot upon this cold black sand, embracing wind as it blows every last hair drawn fabric about thy heart. My heart is forever in liberty, just as these black pebbles cackle at retreating waves. My heart is a mariner with a squint of foggy shorelines, and my sadness is forever the rope mooring our rowboat beached upon this black sand beach.
Barren Tree (day 1654)
I have called you again
Tracing rain drops
Down my bleeding window
And answering to shadows
The barren tree outside
Casts upon my heart.
OK (day 1630)
Push me now.
Ok.
Hug me like I’ve been wisdom
At a town hall meeting
In a critical assembly.
Let me fall into icy cold waters
Of a running, Northern creek
As crystals form delicately
On outstretched branches of trees.
Ok.
We are one.
Can Love (day 1611)
I don’t think I can love any other way
Then a heavy anchor tugging
Like window screen wipers
On at a very fast speed.
My storm is perfect and irregular
As its onslaught takes no prisoners
And leaves memories about my skin
Like thin veins navigating through
Lifelines of a thousand year old tree.
Some days I grasp like fallen soldiers
Stranded in limbo, crying out
The name signed with lipstick
Resting on a breast pocket postcard.
On other days, I recline in bliss
As a cackling fire warms my toes
And a pair of storyline mukluks
Bring me warm tea,
Reminding me of good choices I made.
I carry my tokens with me; inside.
I believe there should be no other way.
I believe that love supersedes
The cravings and doesn’t rely on
Place holders that distract real meaning
And distort intentions
In some silly ploy for attention
And a pitiful future
I will not dare seek to define.
I believe in redefinition absolutely,
But redefinition is never easy to agree with,
For the unsettling Demons, nay,
The unsettling Angels of my instinct
Carry with them a fire
That burns so dark in my soul
That I cry when they meet for tribunal.
I don’t think I can love any other way,
And no holiday nor any reward
Has ever shown me otherwise.
Into the Glen (day 1558)
As I sat in patience at a corner of my walk
Two oddly shaped pebbles looked back at me
As if saying: “All is well, all is good, have peace my brethren.”
To my surprise, illicitly, a tree sprouted up about.
It’s trunk was wide, a perfect brown peeking out from vertical alcoves
That suspended my thought – my memory – upon our mother.
I took notice of curled leaves brushing against my knees,
In sweet peace, in tranquility; gentle cooing of a romantic lover.
Her sweet embrace casually led me down sloping grass to a calm pond
Tickled by weeping willows and lily pads saying: “My, what a fine day, stay a while.”
So I stayed. I watched loons and swans swim endless loops – mindless to my observant eyes,
Finally settling on the same well kept slopes I rested upon,
Filled with little paths serving the gentle commotion.
At once I noticed clambering of little soldiers
Setting into order all disorder in a huff and bite.
So I took my patience back a padded path to where I had found my pebbles to bid them a good day
Carrying on, all the better, for my foray into the glen.
Wander (day 1521)
Do you wander with me?
Do you stretch skyward
And lick your lips
In keen awareness and focus?
Do you step lightly
And avoid puddles
And identify trees and shrubs
That each have purpose?
I want to be you,
And am you.
Squirrels (day 1512)
I am awakened by the sound of trees
Clacking with other trees
Amidst a soft morning breeze
That has calmly taken to remind me
Of balance that life exists in
Where moss growsÂ
And ferns sprout
And squirrels chirp away
At their busy business.
Ashram Day 4 (day 1407)
A grain of sand
Had my name on it
As it blew across the beach.
I watched it go
To and fro,
Just like my friend the bird.
The grain of sand
Paused a short while
Under a shady tree,
And here I stayed
To watch life be
Delighting about the sea.
Opacity (day 1366)
Mist hovers around distant peaks
In layers of varying degrees of opacity.
This romantic gesture of nature
Elegantly caresses the rolling edges
Of Oceans’ depth,
Lapping in anticipation of condensation,
Of erosion, of a life ready for swimming
And torrents swiftly moving debris,
Leftover madness,
In a slow waltz towards decomposition.
For life in its continued cycle
Sweeps all amongst its grip,
Heaves and blows, wisps and snows.
And goes and goes between distant tree tops
Of deep hidden green
Where damp darkness within hallows out
Moss and lichen’s dear nest,
Amidst fallen giants, long ever lasting,
With hearts of true desire so deeply brown
That all surrounding colour forms a perfect match,
Like needle covered ground,
Healthily swept clean of fungi
By the little nature cleaners,
Bacteria and organisms alive in depths
Scarcely observed in fleeting moments of daylight,
Heavily felt as clouds consistently continue
Rolling along distant peaks
In varying degrees of opacity.